Hollow Man
by Chenanceou
Summary: Buffy and Spike have been living together since the end of S7 in this AU ficlet.


Title: Hollow Man  
By: Chen  
Feedback: Would be nice.  
Archive: Here.  
Disclaimer: All belongs to ME (Grr! Argh!), not me.  
A/N: Two years in the future. The 'ship has finally sailed after S7   
and Spike and Buffy have been living together since then. But   
not 'all is well' in paradise. Or the Hellmouth.  
  
"This is the way the world ends  
Not with a bang but a whimper."  
T.S. Eliot  
  
=#=  
  
"My Dearest B.,  
  
You may think me a coward for doing this in writing, but every time I   
gathered enough courage to talk to you, something inside has stopped   
me from saying what needed to be said. So a letter it is.  
  
We have been hiding in the shadows of what we thought was our epic   
love. Hiding in the leftovers of nights spent in each other's arms.   
One more night fueled by the memories of what it was like would kill   
me now, Buffy.   
  
It used to be so easy. Fight, shag, fight, shag. But for some   
unfathomable reason, it's not enough anymore. Maybe it was the day to   
day rut we fell into. Maybe it was the fact the only conversations   
that we managed not to have end in yelling matches, were the ones   
about the latest nasty. Shop talk.   
  
You're the Slayer. Chosen One with the sacred calling. I'm- what?   
Your sidekick? No, not for me. I used to think the sun set and rose   
with you. Not anymore. It's over Buffy. Life is too short. Yes, even   
for me and my unknown expiration date, it's too preciously short to   
hang around waiting for things to go back to when they weren't so   
bad.   
  
I thought we would be forever. I loved you so very much. But- forever   
ended up being for as long as it lasted. That piece of reality caught   
me unaware. Byron wouldn't have approved.   
  
I have to thank you though. I wouldn't have gotten my soul back if it   
hadn't been for you. You did make me a good man after all. Who would   
have thought that the very soul you condemned me for not having –   
that very soul that made it okay for us to be together – would be the   
culprit of our failure?  
  
Don't deny it Buffy. I know. I see how you look at me. You miss what   
I used to be, even if you lie to me. And to yourself.   
  
It dawned on me the other day, another one of the endless days I've   
spent alone in the house – looking for something to do. It's not only   
the loving that matters. Unfortunately that's not enough. It's also   
who you are when you're with the person you love. We both know we   
don't bring out the best in each other.  
  
I'll leave, silently. No tears – I know how much you dislike overtly   
emotional displays. Will say my goodbyes to the Lil' Bit tomorrow.   
The rest of my stuff – not that there's too much of it – I'll pick up   
while you're at the school. Harris will be happy. I can hear him   
saying 'Told you it wouldn't last.' Well, luv, we managed to hang on   
for two whole years. Though the last six months have been the most   
empty and lonely ones I've ever spent. I'm guessing the same goes for   
you.  
  
Nothing worse than to lie down next to a person you used to love and   
pretend you're asleep so you don't have to talk or touch. Yes, I   
noticed how you kept to your corner of the bed. No, I don't blame   
you. I blame us. Me for believing in fairy tales and all that   
Romantic rot I grew up reading. You... I'll leave that one for you to   
figure out, Buffy. It's not my intention to drag this out more than I   
have to.  
  
Yes, I would like to keep some of the CD's – they were mine in the   
first place and you never took to my music. You keep the Celtic   
Chiefs. I know you liked them. I'm taking the copy of the Browning   
poems I gave you last Christmas. You never read them anyway.  
  
This is it, Buffy. I'll be at the Sunnydale Inn for a spell while I   
look for an apartment. Goes without saying you can count on me when   
it comes to the next apocalypse. It feels odd to say this, but I'm   
walking out of this relationship - not out of town. Maybe one day   
we'll be able to work together again. No long silences and no   
recriminations buried under layers and layers of resentment.  
  
Maybe one day, we can be what we never had the chance to be. Friends.  
  
Always yours,  
  
William"  
  
The piece of paper, with its elegant handwriting, slipped from her   
hands and quietly came to rest on the floor of the empty house.  
  
  


The End 


End file.
